Witch Born (18 page)

Hastily righting the overturned lamp, Coyel spoke to the Guardian, “Tie them up in separate cellars for tonight. Prenny, you go with him to keep Senna calm.”

A cellar? Was she making dinner tonight?

The Guardian shifted Senna in his arms. “Yes, Head.”

Prenny bent down and picked up the lamp and Senna’s seed belt.

Senna nearly cried out in outrage. What was her seed belt doing on the ground? The vials and seeds could have spilled!

“How long will this stuff take to wear off?” the Guardian asked nervously.

Prenny eyed Senna sidelong. “Not long. We’ll know when she starts to struggle again.”

Prenny held the lantern aloft to light their way as the Guardian carried Senna down the path. She wanted to ask them where they were going, but her mouth was full of something. Embarrassed, she tried to swallow it, but it was stuck.

Senna was dimly aware of other Witches watching them with shocked expressions. She must look like an idiot with something stuck in her mouth.

Suddenly some of her fear broke free. Death was coming for them. She had to escape. Tonight.

But her hands were tied and her mouth gagged. Knowing she couldn’t let the Guardian or Prenny realize she was waking up, she thought hard. All the times she’d heard the Four Sisters were when the songs were the loudest—during an earth tremor, a storm, or the death throes of an entire nation.

So maybe the songs were always there, just so soft she only heard them during a tumultuous event. And if they were there, she could control them. Knowing she’d have to move fast, she listened hard to the Four Sisters. Dimly, she heard drums, winds, flutes, so soft and natural she had mistaken them for the normal sounds of nature.

She began humming the melody, so quietly even the Guardian couldn’t hear her. Then she changed the tune. The elements responded as before, shifting to match her. She changed their song, melding them into position.

Prenny paused. “Something feels wrong.”

A moth brushed Senna’s face. More wings swept across her skin. She felt their clinging legs as they landed on her.

The Guardian gasped.

“What are they doing?” Prenny asked.

The more Senna hummed, the more the moths came, swirling channels of them, dancing about her. Their wings brushed against her skin like the softest kisses.

The muscles in the Guardian’s arms tensed. “Head, blow out the lantern.”

Prenny hesitated before turning down the wick. She froze. Senna was glowing, a soft light spilling from her in flares of gold. She was so full of the Four Sister’s songs, she was drunk with them. She changed one note. In an instant, the vines around her wrists fell away. The wind worked the gag loose. It fell from her mouth into a pile on her chest.

With a warning shout, Prenny grabbed for her vial. Senna switched from humming to singing. Plants knocked Prenny back and pinned her to the ground. Then they wrapped around the Guardian’s shoulders, forcing him to his knees. As his arms were wrenched away, Senna stepped free. Prenny’s eyes grew wide and frightened. The Guardian gaped wordlessly at her.

Mistin stood rooted to the spot. “Senna?”

Ignoring them, she veered down another path and started towards the sheer cliffs surrounding the island. She was certain she could call up the wind, strong enough to carry her across the ocean to Tarten, but first she had to get clear of these trees.

Suddenly Reden and Hesten were there, with Joshen running at the front of them. Arianis and the other Heads trailed behind him. They must have heard the commotion.

But Senna didn’t need her Guardians anymore. With a word, she changed the wind. It twisted a protective cocoon around her, forcing everyone back. In the eye of the storm, some moths clung to her; their furry legs tickling her skin. Others swirled like crisp leaves before a fall breeze.

She picked up her skirts and hurried towards one of the staircases that cut across the surface of the cliffs. One step at a time, she started climbing, moths curling behind her like a wind-blown cloak.

Reden started after her. “Senna! Wait!”

Joshen stared up at her. “What’s wrong with her?”

Senna tipped her face up to the moonless night and laughed. There was nothing wrong with her. For once, everything was right. Stepping to the edge of the carved stairs, she called the wind to her. It thickened around her, pulling her hair and clothes up.

“What is she doing?” Joshen shouted.

Prenny tore at the vines, her fingers bleached white. “She’s drunk.”

“Drunk?” Reden helped cut Prenny free.

“An occasional side effect of the barbus.” Prenny yanked a vial out of Senna’s seed belt. She threw it at Senna but missed. It shattered against the cliffs. Cool drops splashed her cloak and soaked through to her skin. The scent of flowers engulfed her in a wave.

“What was that?” Joshen asked.

“More barbus extract,” Prenny said.

“You gave her more!” Joshen said in outrage.

“I didn’t have a choice!”

Warmth and drowsiness enfolded Senna. The wind waited for her command, but she no longer remembered what that command was. It listened a moment more before growing distracted. She felt herself slipping. Into darkness. Into dreams.

“She’s going to fall!” Joshen shoved Prenny out of the way and started running.

Prenny sounded close to panic. “She isn’t supposed to be able to circle the wind outside of the Ring of Power, let alone one that strong!”

Senna tipped forward. Her muscles turned to liquid and she splashed over the side of the staircase like spilled wine.

Joshen sprinted forward, his heart tearing in two as Senna swayed on the edge of the cliff. He watched from below as she crumpled and tipped over the side, her body as limp as a rag doll.

He tried to catch her, but she slammed into him with such force it knocked him to the ground. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Holding her to him, he lay there, trying to decide if anything was broken.

“Hold your breath!” Prenny, her face red, ripped Senna’s cloak off, crumpled it in a ball, and threw it. She gasped in a lungful of air. “I don’t smell barbus.”

Reden knelt over them. “Is she all right?”

Joshen groaned and sat up.

“She’s unconscious.” Prenny’s fingers searched Senna’s dress. “It appears most of it was on her cloak.”

Senna wasn’t glowing anymore. For that Joshen was relieved, but her neck was bent back at an awkward angle, her body wilted in his arms. He gently tipped her head into his chest, cradling her to him. He felt the reassuring puff of her breath against his skin. He glared at Prenny. “What did you do to her? Why did she run? By the Creators, why was she glowing?”

Prenny pulled another vial from her pocket and ran it under Senna’s nose. She shifted away from the foul-smelling stuff, snuggling deeper into Joshen’s chest.

He brushed some of her hair away from her face. “Senna?”

Prenny sang.

Awake my child, it’s time to rise.

Find the life within and open thine eyes.

On the song’s fourth repetition, Senna’s eyes fluttered open. She stared at Joshen in obvious confusion, her eyes glassy.

“It’ll take her awhile to shake off the effects. She’s basically still asleep.” Prenny lifted the spectacles hanging from a beaded chain around her neck. She pulled down the rose-colored lens and stared at Senna. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Coyel stepped forward, her face unsure. “I think we should stay with you.”

Prenny grunted. “She’ll be out for the rest of the night with that much barbus, and we’ve only a few hours till sunrise. We need that pollen, Coyel.”

Coyel seemed to waver. “All right. Let’s go back to the harvest. Quickly now.”

Reden helped Senna to her feet. “How is this possible?”

Prenny waited until the other Heads had slowly filed away before studying both Guardians, her expression pensive. “She’s sleepwalking.”

One of the Apprentices hadn’t left, though. She was watching Joshen, her face set. Her hands were tied behind her back with what looked like some kind of plant. Sometimes Witches baffled him. Why couldn’t they have just used rope?

“What about me?” the girl said.

Prenny made a noise low in her throat. “You were on shaky ground before, Mistin. You’re not an adept student, and you’re song is barely above a Wastrel. Now you’ve attacked the Heads. They’ll banish you.”

Mistin’s face crumpled. “Please,” she whispered. “I’ll try harder. I’ll make the Truth Serum this time. I will.”

Prenny ground her teeth. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”

Mistin blanched. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. My mother and sisters died for being Witches, even though they were just Wastrels. Don’t condemn me to the same fate.”

Prenny’s shoulder’s sagged. She motioned to Reden. “Cut her free.” With his knife, Reden sawed through the vines binding her.

“What am I to do?” Mistin whispered.

The Head stared at her. “Go to your tree for tonight. We’ll come for you in the morning. There’s nothing more I can do for you. I wish there was.”

Mistin rubbed her wrists. Her gaze went to Senna. “What about her? She’s my friend.”

Prenny motioned for Mistin to go. “You don’t need to worry about Senna. I’ll take care of her.”

Mistin’s gaze narrowed, but she didn’t say anything, just hurried back down the path.

“I would save them—save them both—if I could. But it seems that is not meant to be.” Prenny made a noise low in her throat. “You’ll come with me.” She led the Guardians further into the darkness.

Joshen pulled Senna behind him. She followed docilely where he led, her expression dreamy. “Where are you taking us?” Joshen asked.

Prenny glanced back at him. “I could ask you the same thing. I assume you are going with her to Tarten?”

Not Prenny too!
Joshen was half convinced every Witch on this island was three-quarters mad. “She is
not
going to Tarten.”

Prenny snorted in derision. “Has Senna ever let anything stop her once she’s set her mind to it? She’ll go, one way or another. The question is, are you going with her?”

Joshen knew if he left, he’d never be a Guardian again. He pushed the thought aside. “I go where she goes.” And she was not going to Tarten.

Prenny nodded. “Good. She’ll need you. Now come on.”

Reden trotted to catch up with Prenny. “Are you sure you want to risk helping us, Head?”

Prenny worried her bottom lip. “Something’s happening to that girl. Something that’s only happened once before in the long and scattered history of the Witches. And if the Creators trust her, I guess that means we should, too. And if the others won’t…well, the Creator’s decision overrules the Heads.” She met Reden’s gaze. “You know it too, don’t you?”

He nodded, his face tight. “Yes. It’s why I’m going with her.”

Prenny’s face went slack. “But you’re our Leader. The Guardians need you here! We need you here.”

Reden grunted. “I believed her when she said she was trying to save Haven. Do you?”

Prenny slowly nodded. “I do now.”

“Then my place is with her, saving my charges.”

Prenny stepped closer to him. “In Tarten, they call you a traitor. If you leave with Senna tonight, so will Haven.”

Reden took a deep breath. “My loyalty was never to Haven.” He gestured towards Senna. “It has always been to her.”

Prenny’s mouth fell open. “From the beginning?”

He nodded.

Prenny sighed. “You’ve just known it longer than the rest of us, I suppose.”

Joshen’s grip tightened on Senna’s slight hand. He pushed all thoughts of Tarten aside. Right now, his only concern was getting her off the island.

When they reached another cellar, Prenny hauled open the door.

Dank air rushed against Joshen’s face. “What are you doing?”

Prenny moved down the first few steps. “You freed Senna and locked me in here. Understand?”

Joshen gaped at the older woman.

Prenny handed him Senna’s seed belt and satchel. “She can’t steal my potions if I give them to her. See she’s safe. And don’t come back to Haven. Ever.”

Joshen carefully tied the belt around Senna’s waist while she stared off into the trees, swaying to music he couldn’t hear. He tugged her hood over her face and gently tucked her golden hair out of sight. She was too beautiful and innocent to bear such burdens. “I’m sorry,” he said to her.

Reden hefted the thick doors, but hesitated before closing them. “If Senna’s right, you’ll need more Guardians on the island. I’ve recruited men in Corrieth. Use the Truth Serum to make sure they’re loyal and see they’re brought here. More if you can get them.”

Prenny covered her mouth with her hand. “I’ll do what I can.”

Reden shut the door, blocking their view of Prenny’s upturned face, and slid the bar home. “Come on.”

Joshen tugged Senna after him. “How are we to escape?” he asked.

Reden shook his head. “Leave that to me.”

When they arrived at Velveten, Collum was on duty. He looked a bit wan and was hunched over. Reden had said he’d been sick. Still, he seemed alert.

Collum eyed them, his brow furrowed. “Leader Reden, Joshen. What was all that commotion?”

Reden motioned for Collum to step aside. “Let us pass, Guardian.”

Collum shifted uneasily on his feet. “Sir? You need a signed pass from the Heads.”

“No. I don’t.”

The Heads’ orders overruled Reden’s, and they all knew it. Joshen tugged Senna forward so the lantern light spilled across her face. “We have to get her out, Collum. Before it’s too late.”

Collum opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Joshen took another step towards his friend. “They almost took her again yesterday. And there’s a danger coming for Haven. We have to stop it.” When Collum didn’t respond, Joshen said softly, “Sometimes we have to protect our Witches from their own mistakes—even the Heads. Leary knew that.”

Collum glanced around, the beads in his hair clicking. “They’ll throw me out, take away my Guardianship. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Joshen gritted his teeth, knowing he’d already forfeited the role he’d worked towards his entire life. Now instead of being a Guardian, he would be hunted by them. But it didn’t matter, not when Senna was involved.